October 15th, 2016
by Splattifying Agent 2
Summary: For five years, Dee Vasquez has been in charge of Jack Hammer's life. But no longer.


**[A/N] Something a bit different today. I started playing the original Ace Attorney trilogy again recently, and finished off Turnabout Samurai. Jack Hammer's a guy that's pretty interesting to me, considering the number of unanswered questions to do with him. Here's my interpretation of October 15th, 2016.**

Five years. Five long, painful years, but it would finally be coming to an end today.

He had everything he needed. All that was left was to put the plan into motion.

The action run-through was just finished. Powers, stupid oaf that he was, sprained his ankle. He'd have a hard time walking on that for a while. His own walk would have to take a little longer, but that was fine. He'd have more time to get himself ready.

Manella and that _woman_ had gone off to Studio Two for some meeting. Everyone else was doing God knew what. The only other person around at that moment was Penny. She'd be cooking now. Perfect.

He casually walked into the little kitchen they'd installed a year back. The assistant was standing there. It looked like she'd just gotten started a few minutes ago.

The little bottle of sleeping pills rattled in his pocket as he walked. Penny started, and turned to look at him. She let out a relieved breath when she saw him. "Oh, Mr. Hammer! You scared me."

He gave her his best smile. "Sorry about that. What are we cooking?"

"Oh, just some t-bone steaks. Y'know, the usual."

Ah, yes. More steaks. A bit repetitive, but still a favourite. They helped keep the muscles working. He'd need that.

"Want some help?"

She looked surprised. "You can cook?"

"I live alone," he confessed. "Don't have a choice, do I?"

She smiled. "Nope, guess not. In that case, be my guest."

And help he did. Penny was a damn saint as far as he was concerned. Being the assistant and the best cook around, she was expected to take care of all of the food. It didn't help that everyone was picky as hell with their steaks, or that the studio was too cheap to get a better kitchen. She always had to make them one or two at a time and it took a while.

And yet, not once did she complain. One in a million, that girl.

"So does everyone know when to come by?" he asked flippantly.

"Mhm. They'll all be here when it's ready."

"Sweet. And who're you cookin' for there?"

"Well, I have Mr. Manella's here," she said. "And the one for Ms. Vasquez is heating up."

His grip tightened on the knife he was holding. "I'll take care of Powers and myself, then."

"Thanks, Mr. Hammer," Penny replied gratefully.

That was all he'd need for now. Working on Powers' steak was the first step. His hand crept into his pocket and he silently grabbed the bottle. "Hey, you got any garnishes?"

"Garnishes?"

"Bit of parsley or something," he replied. "Throw a bit on top, and it'll look a lot nicer."

"Oh, that's not a bad idea!" she exclaimed. "I'll take a look."

Penny turned around to look through some cupboards. This would be his best chance.

Quick as he could, he popped the little bottle open, cracked a pill in two, and shook out some of the powder inside onto Powers' steak. The fluid on the meat made the powder invisible. Perfect.

He'd done a bit of research to make sure he'd get the dosage right. Too little and Powers would wake up early, and be in two places at once. Too much and they'd find him still asleep. Either way, he was pretty sure it was right.

He heard a sigh out of the assistant. "Nope... nothing like that. Shame. It was a good idea."

He shrugged, quickly putting the bottle back in his pocket. "Oh well. What can you do?"

They kept cooking for a while, sharing small talk. Eventually, the steaks were done. Penny stepped back and looked at their handiwork. "Lookin' good! Thanks, Mr. Hammer!"

He gave a thumbs-up. "Nah, you did most of the work. Hell, I oughta be thanking you for doing this as well as you do."

She blushed. Jack felt a bit of pride in that. _I still got it_. "Oh, stop. L-let's just get this served, okay? Everyone'll be showing up soon."

He took a couple plates - Powers and his own - and made to walk out into the Employee Area.

"Hey, Mr. Hammer?"

He froze. "Yeah?"

"What's that in your pocket?"

_Shit_. Well, he could spin a lie out of the truth, couldn't he? He put down the plates and pulled out the bottle. "Bit of medicine," he replied. "I've been comin' down with something lately, I think. I'm keepin' 'em on me in case something happens. Gotta be in top form, you know?"

She nodded in understanding. "Cool. Good of you to keep your health together like that, Mr. Hammer."

He gave her an award-winning smile, and made his way back outside. Powers and the security lady were there already. The room was mostly deserted other than them.

"I'll run these over to Studio Two," he heard Penny say, and she ran off without another word. Powers was looking at Jack expectantly, and raised a hand in greeting. He nodded back.

"There you go, you big lug," Jack said, putting the spiked steak in front of his co-star.

"Ah, thanks a million, Jack!" Powers said. "I'm starving!"

He put down the other plate and pulled up his own chair, and dug in. Not bad, he thought. Maybe not quite as good as Penny, but Jack himself wasn't a half-bad cook. It'd been a while since he'd been able to make something as luxurious as steak, but his talent hadn't dulled in the slightest.

Next to him, Powers was chomping down noisily. Jack did his best to ignore him and enjoy his own steak.

"So how's the leg?" he eventually asked between mouthfuls.

At his words, Powers reached down and rubbed it with a pained expression. "Ah, still can't walk on it right. I'll probably run down to the hospital after we're done today."

Jack bobbed his head sympathetically. "Been there," he replied. "But you don't want a cast or anything. That'll be hell when you get in the costume."

Powers chewed thoughtfully. "Yeah, you got a point there... thanks for the advice. You're the veteran, after all."

"You know it," Jack replied. Both of them were just about done with their steak. Powers tried to cut off the last bit of meat, but couldn't aim his knife quite right, so he just picked up the whole bone and tore the meat off with his teeth.

When it was all clean, the younger star sat back with a satisfied expression, and yawned. "Ah... good food always makes me sleepy. Think I'll go down for a nap before the next rehearsal..."

Jack grinned to himself. Perfect. "Sure, just don't stay in too late. Five sharp, remember? You know how the diva gets when things aren't perfect."

Powers acknowledged him with a chuckle, and went into his dressing room.

The security lady had left already. Jack Hammer was alone.

He finished his own steak in silence, forcing himself to wait. He needed time for the sleeping pills to take effect. Five minutes oughta be plenty, he thought. The brand he'd picked up was pretty strong, even for a big guy like Powers.

When the time had passed, he opened Powers' door a crack and peeked in. Sure enough, there he was, thoroughly passed out and sawing logs on his couch. The Steel Samurai costume was in a heap on the floor.

He probably didn't have to, but he moved quietly anyway, getting the costume on as quick as possible. He put on the mask, picked up the repaired spear, and left.

Ugh, essence of Powers. The thing smelled awful - but it was pretty heavy. Powers would probably sweat like a pig when he was in this outfit. Jack didn't have any doubts that he'd end up doing the same.

He'd checked up on Powers' leg to know whether or not he'd have to keep up that part of his disguise - had to be perfect, after all. Jack couldn't risk blowing his cover. So he walked out, dragging his leg behind him as though it had just been sprained.

He walked past the security gate. Oldbag barely glanced up from the doughnut she was scarfing down. He inclined his head back to her as he kept walking.

This was it now. There wouldn't be anyone else now between the gate and the studio. He could probably stop fake-limping, but that was too risky.

He had a bit of a walk between the two landmarks, so he had a bit of time to think.

This was his moment, finally. Five long, painful years of living off almost nothing, thanks to that _bitch_. But it was about to end. He'd stick the spear in her and finally take his life back into his own hands, and it would be sweet justice.

In fact, that was part of his reason for taking the Steel Samurai costume. Resentment for Powers was part of it, sure, but the Steel Samurai fought for justice, right? That's all that he was doing - enacting justice on the woman who ruined his life. Jack smiled underneath the mask.

Who cared about the outcome? Certainly not him. If Powers took the fall like he was supposed to, then Jack walked away a free man, and his career would start again like it never ended. If the police figured out the ruse and he got convicted... well, he obviously preferred the other outcome, but the point would be that he got his revenge and his financial freedom, even if he'd have to wait to act on it.

He kept trudging on to Studio Two. There was a bit of rustling that he could hear in the woods behind him, but it didn't matter. He kept walking. His heartbeat grew faster with every step as he got closer to his ultimate revenge.

Eventually, he reached his destination, just outside Studio Two. He could see that trailer, and the spiked fence outside it. That one spike still had a bend in it. Why they never decided to fix that crap was beyond him.

He knew who was inside, too. A few of the higher-ups in the studio. A couple sponsor representatives. Manella, of course, and Vasquez herself.

He neither knew nor cared what they were talking about. All he knew was that things would end soon, the moment Vasquez stepped out that door.

The sight of the trailer brought back memories of that day. It was right at the peak of Jack's fame. Good times, those were. He'd been filming an action sequence for his latest movie, right on those stairs, with a guy called Manuel. Jack didn't know him personally, but he was familiar with his reputation - another rising star, and an all-around pleasant guy.

It was an accident, he knew that. So did everyone else. He got a bit too aggressive with his actions, and Manuel fell off the stairs. He landed right on top of one of the spikes in the fence, and he bled out in seconds.

It was horrifying, really. That day was probably Jack's worst memory, for a few different reasons. He'd acted out killings in some movies before, sure, but actually seeing it happen for real was the worst thing he could've experienced. One minute, everything was normal, and the next... Manuel was dead.

Vasquez was there, too, and she was absolutely beside herself. She shook the body desperately, like she thought she could wake him up.

Vasquez and Manuel had been more than a little intimate with each other, everyone around knew that. It was an open secret in the studio - and Jack had just ended his life, even if it was an accident. In that moment, he felt sorry for her, even as she pointed at him accusingly and called him a killer. It was the only time he ever saw Vasquez lose her cool.

Every ounce of that sympathy disappeared the moment she began blackmailing him. She'd approached him a few days after the incident - a few days after the photographer was silenced. "I know you murdered Manuel on purpose," she'd told him. "And you'll do as I tell you if you want that to stay private."

Fear for his career - the most important thing in his life at that time - made him say yes. It didn't matter if it was really an accident. Vasquez had her influence and he knew that her word would be taken over his own.

So he complied, for five long years. He took every ounce of abuse and every role she gave him, and never once argued about his pitiful salary. But all of that was about to end. His freedom was about to come back with a vengeance.

The door was opening. Jack snapped out of his memories and stepped back a little. If it wasn't Vasquez, he didn't want to be spotted.

But it was. This was his lucky day. She stepped out onto the porch, casual as you please, with that pipe in her hand. She took a drag from it.

Jack stepped into view. Vasquez raised her eyebrows, and put a hand on her hip. "Powers... what are you doing here?"

Jack walked toward the stairs. "Not quite," he said. He walked toward her, spear gripped tightly in his hand. This was it.

She recognized his voice and his intentions. "Ah, Hammer," she said. "I see..."

He was at the foot of the stairs now, looking right up at her. She stared him down.

Well, no time like the present.

He took a step up the stairs, and stabbed forward with the spear.

But try as he might, the weapon was still heavy, and he wasn't used to it, so the blow was slow and cumbersome. Vasquez moved out of the way, and tried to close the distance between them. The pipe dropped out of her hand.

She grabbed the spear with both hands, and struggled against him. That wasn't about to work, he thought. He was a good deal bigger and stronger than she was, although she still managed to offer up some decent resistance.

He shoved her back and took another step, but Vasquez was quick enough to grab the spear again. Her teeth were gritted with the effort.

Her eyes, however, flitted to the left for just a moment. Jack noticed this, and took a quick glance at whatever she was looking at.

This proved to be a fatal mistake. Vasquez moved to his new blind spot and gave him a hard shove with a little grunt of effort and all the strength she could muster.

Jack couldn't balance properly in that heavy costume, and he fell over the rail. He was in the air for only a moment, but it felt like it was a lot longer than that.

Didn't matter, though. He fell hard - and a spike from the fence pierced his chest.

He was running out of time, breath, and blood already. He vaguely wondered if this was what Manuel felt like when he died - but no, it wasn't.

There was no one calling his name, no one desperately trying to save his life. Only a thoroughly shocked and calculating producer, watching another man die the same way she'd lost her lover.

The irony was not lost on Jack Hammer.

That was his final thought.


End file.
